


Enough

by omgsynecdoche



Series: Haikyuu Post-Timeskip AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Argentina National Team, Athletic Trainer Iwaizumi Hajime, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, M/M, Minor Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, Minor Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgsynecdoche/pseuds/omgsynecdoche
Summary: Iwaizumi loved Oikawa, adored him, worshipped him. And Oikawa was the same. Oikawa showered his beloved Iwa-chan with lavish gifts to make up for his absence on his birthday, or on their anniversary. Oikawa always called him back, replied to his messages, let him know how much he loved him and missed him.Oikawa made sure Iwaizumi knew that he was enough. That he was more than enough. That he was everything.Didn’t he?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Sawamura Daichi, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru & Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Haikyuu Post-Timeskip AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133273
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entry to Haikyuu Angst Week 2020. 
> 
> Day 2: "Was I ever enough?"

Oikawa sat up in bed, the covers falling off of him, revealing his bare torso. He lifted his pillow and found his phone. He sighed in relief, checking the time before clicking it locked and placing it on the table beside him.  
  
It was 10:00 am, and Iwaizumi would be arriving in less than twelve hours. Just the thought of finally being in the same time zone made Oikawa smile fondly.  
  
Long distance was rough. The time difference was rough. But Oikawa was happy. He had the two loves of his life — Iwaizumi and volleyball. And though he would love it if Iwaizumi would just up and leave Japan and join him in Argentina, they both loved what they did, and so they make the distance work.  
  
But Oikawa would get lonely sometimes. He needed attention. He needed to be showered with praise. So sometimes, he would wake up, late in the morning, beside someone other than Iwaizumi.   
  
Today was one of those times.  
  
“Iwaizumi arriving today?” Kuroo asked, blindly feeling around the bed for his own phone. Like Oikawa, Kuroo was still buck-naked, neither of them having bothered to put even underwear back on last night.  
  
“Yeah,” Oikawa replied as he fell back onto the bed beside Kuroo, still smiling. “Later tonight. I’m picking him up from the airport.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s a good idea, you can’t make him take a cab or whatever,” said Kuroo, who finally found his phone and began fiddling with it. “He’s gonna be bone-tired by then. Traveling from Tokyo to here is no fucking walk in the park. So you better make it worth his while.”  
  
Oikawa turned his head to look at Kuroo with an eyebrow cocked. “Just like I made it yours?” he asked the taller man.  
  
“Fuck you,” Kuroo scoffed, throwing the covers off of himself and began plucking last night’s discarded clothes off the floor.  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
Kuroo flipped Oikawa the bird right before throwing a t-shirt at him, hitting him squarely in the face. Oikawa sputtered for a second and pulled the garment off. Recognizing it as his own shirt, he pulled it over his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the fabric grazed his nose. When he opened his eyes again, Kuroo was standing on the other side of the bed. His eyes weren’t quite shooting daggers at him yet, but they were close.  
  
“This never happened,” Kuroo hissed.  
  
“Sure, Kuroo,” he said, shrugging, “whatever you say.” He paused, watching Kuroo pull on his jeans, before delivering the punch line.  
  
“That’s what you said the last time you were in town and fought with Daishou over Skype.”  
  
Kuroo froze in his tracks. He was now positively staring daggers at Oikawa. Oikawa smirked at Kuroo as he finally got up and pulled on his boxers.  
  
“Hey, at least you had me more than once. Not like Sa—”  
  
“You’re a fucking asshole, Oikawa,” Kuroo cut him off.  
  
“Don’t go falling in love with me now,” Oikawa teased. “I mean, I know I’m not Sa—”  
  
“Fuck you!” Kuroo bellowed. He was a hair away from livid, but Oikawa wasn’t done.  
  
“Does Daishou know that you sleep around to blow off steam?”   
  
“Does _Iwa-chan_ know?” Kuroo spat, saying Iwaizumi’s nickname in a way that was supposed to mock the way Oikawa says it.  
  
“I have no secrets from Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said nonchalantly, not taking the bait. He finally pulled on his sweatpants and began stripping the bed. Opposite him, Kuroo had stopped trying to tame his wild mane of hair and looked straight at Oikawa with a surprised expression on his face.  
  
“Really? He _knows_?”  
  
“Mm-hmm.”  
  
“And he’s okay with it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Oikawa shrugged. Indeed, he had no secrets from Iwaizumi. That was one of the things that he loved about Iwaizumi — that he could be 100% himself, shitty and lazy and trashy and all that — and Iwaizumi would still understand him, accept him, love him.  
  
“Why do you do it, though?” Kuroo asked, genuinely confused. He moved aside as Oikawa walked over to the side of the bed where he was and pulled on the sheets.  
  
“Why do I do what?”  
  
“Fuck around. Literally.”  
  
It was Oikawa’s turn to stop and consider Kuroo’s words. He sat down on the edge of the bare mattress and was quiet for a minute.   
  
“Because it makes me forget how much I miss him,” Oikawa admitted.  
  
Kuroo narrowed his eyes at Oikawa, towering over him. “That makes absolutely no sense.”  
  
Oikawa glared at him. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right,” Kuroo agreed, finally pocketing his phone. “You have to explain yourself to Iwaizumi.”  
  
“No, I don’t,” Oikawa said plainly. “He knows me and he loves me the way I am.”  
  
“Sure,” Kuroo said, shrugging. “But if I were him, I’d start to second-guess if you loved me.” Kuroo paused as Oikawa’s expression changed.  
  
It was Kuroo’s turn to deliver a punch line. “I’d start to think maybe I wasn’t enough.”  
  
Oikawa stood and drew himself to his full height, still falling a few centimeters short of Kuroo. This seemed to be exactly what Kuroo wanted, as he simply smirked at Oikawa.  
  
“Get the fuck out of my house now,” Oikawa hissed.  
  
Kuroo turned towards the bedroom door, raising his hand in a gesture of goodbye right as he stepped out of it.  
  
“Have fun tonight, Shittykawa!” Kuroo called without a backward glance at Oikawa, who remained rooted to the same spot, seething.  
  
How dare he? How dare he question Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s relationship? Iwaizumi loved Oikawa, adored him, worshipped him. And Oikawa was the same. Oikawa showered his beloved Iwa-chan with lavish gifts to make up for his absence on his birthday or on their anniversary. Oikawa always called him back, replied to his messages, let him know how much he loved him and missed him. And on the occasions that they were finally together, Oikawa gave _everything_ to him, every last drop of sweat and come.  
  
Oikawa made sure Iwaizumi knew that he was enough. That he was more than enough. That he was everything.  
  
Didn’t he?

*****

Iwaizumi craned his neck, looking for a familiar face in the sea of people at the arrivals area. In the numerous times he’s flown to Buenos Aires, this was the first time that Oikawa wasn’t right at the front of the crowd, his blinding smile plastered on his face.  
  
“Where the fuck are you, Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath.  
  
It didn’t matter that he’d come here many different times in the past five years. He still wasn’t familiar enough with the place. Worse, there was the language barrier. A few weeks at a time every year was not enough to familiarize himself with either of those things.   
  
And so, unable to spot Oikawa, Iwaizumi started to worry.   
  
He decided to weave through the throng of unknown people, luggage in tow, to actively look for his shitty boyfriend who was supposed to pick him up tonight. His head swiveled back and forth, looking for a head of milk-chocolate brown hair, a shade that was forever etched into his brain.  
  
That wasn’t what led him to Oikawa, though. Instead, it was a high-pitched sound.  
  
The screaming of fans.  
  
Iwaizumi groaned. He should have known. This was high school all over again, when Oikawa would get stopped by his fans on his way to the stadium before Inter-High, and Coach Irihata would send Iwaizumi to fetch him. Iwaizumi turned towards the direction of the high-pitched sound and there he was. Oikawa Tooru. In his splendid, athletic glory.  
  
Oikawa’s hair was perfectly coiffed, as usual. His jeans flattered his long, muscular legs. And he was wearing his team jacket, the cool blue color contrasting nicely with his pale skin. So of course he’d be instantly recognized and stopped by fans. What the hell was he thinking?  
  
“Oi!” Iwaizumi called out in his gruffest voice from a couple of feet away. He wished he had a volleyball with him so that he could throw it at Oikawa’s head. Just like old times.  
  
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out, motioning for Iwaizumi to approach.  
  
But Iwaizumi didn’t want to wade through a sea of Oikawa’s fans tonight. So he shook his head firmly and stood his ground. He folded his arms over his chest, the fabric of his bomber jacket straining against his muscles, and glared at Oikawa.  
  
He heard Oikawa say goodbye to the group of ladies who had surrounded him and saw him give a few winks. It took him a minute to travel the few feet between him and Iwaizumi. Oikawa smiled — that damn smile that Iwaizumi was such a sucker for — and placed his hand on the handle of Iwaizumi’s suitcase, which was resting between them.  
  
“I can’t help it, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa breezily, “they stopped me and wanted to take photos!”  
  
“You could have helped it a little by not wearing your uniform,” Iwaizumi said, arms still crossed over his chest.  
  
Oikawa shrugged. “They would have recognized me with or without it,” he said. Iwaizumi knew it was true, but he still felt like Oikawa could have gone without the jacket. They could have gone without the swarm of fangirls, at least for tonight.  
  
“C’mon, Iwa-chan, don’t get mad,” Oikawa was now pouting, puppy dog eyes looking at Iwaizumi.  
  
Iwaizumi was _fucking weak_. He sighed, unfolded his arms, and relented.   
  
“Fine,” he said, taking his suitcase from Oikawa’s hand and pulling it along. He followed Oikawa to the parking lot and loaded his suitcase into the car before getting in himself.  
  
“I know you’re tired so I didn’t make big dinner plans, okay?” said Oikawa, starting the car.  
  
Iwaizumi opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He had to stop and catch his breath. It's not like he'd forgotten what his boyfriend looked like — he couldn't even if he tried — but seeing him in the flesh, after months of looking at him through a computer screen, was something else.  
  
Oikawa was beautiful. His features were soft and pretty when he was like this, light and breezy, and his smile was angelic yet blinding all at once. His lips were pink and plump, and Iwaizumi recalled exactly how those lips felt against his skin. Not even the harsh fluorescent lights of the parking lot could destroy his beauty. Iwaizumi wanted to take him and ravage him, fuck him senseless into the bed, make him scream, make him forget his own name.   
  
Make him feel how much Iwaizumi missed him, loved him, adored him.  
  
Make him feel how much Iwaizumi wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.  
  
“Hello, earth to Iwa-chan?”  
  
Iwaizumi shook his head. “Sorry, what was that?”  
  
“I said we’re just gonna have dinner at home tonight so you can rest up,” Oikawa said as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the highway.  
  
“Sure,” Iwaizumi replied. He reached out and held Oikawa’s hand, which was resting on the stick shift. He saw Oikawa smile, and Iwaizumi’s heart thundered against his chest.  
  
“I missed you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said softly.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They drove home in silence, breaking contact only when Oikawa needed his other hand to turn corners and replacing it into Iwaizumi’s right after.  
  
Iwaizumi headed straight for the shower when they arrived at Oikawa’s place. He needed to wash all the grime off of his body. He could never get used to the grueling hours of travel.  
  
He felt human again after stepping out of the shower, but upon closer inspection in the mirror, decided that he didn’t quite look human yet. Some of the volume had returned to his hair, thanks to Oikawa’s shampoo, and he could work with that. But his eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them. A five o’clock shadow was already visible on his jaw, and combined with the eyes, he just looked unkempt and a hair away from homeless.  
  
He decided food and a good night’s rest would fix it. He put on a pair of sweatpants and a white sleeveless shirt and toweled his hair dry a little bit more before tossing the towel into the hamper, together with the clothes he had been wearing for the last thirty-six hours.  
  
Iwaizumi finally stepped out into the dining area, where Oikawa had set two places at the table. There was steak, some chorizo, a bottle of wine, but what caught Iwaizumi’s attention was the platter of bright-colored rice topped with shrimp and squid and other things.  
  
“You made paella?” Iwaizumi asked with raised eyebrows. He had acquired a taste for the dish in the last five years he'd been coming over to visit Oikawa.  
  
Oikawa blew a raspberry in response. “I wish,” he said, setting a bottle of water onto the table. Oikawa sat at one of the places at the table and Iwaizumi took the other.  
  
“These are all store-bought,” Oikawa explained. “I didn’t have time to cook today, I’m sorry. I’ll cook for you another day.” Oikawa smiled at Iwaizumi. “But don’t expect paella, I can’t do that!”  
  
Iwaizumi chuckled. He realized that the bottle of water was for him, so he twisted the cap open and drank about half of it in one go. He replaced the bottle on the table before putting his hands together in front of his chest. Oikawa did the same.  
  
“Itadakimasu,” they said in unison.   
  
Iwaizumi grabbed the water bottle again and drank more. He realized he was dehydrated from the long travel.  
  
Oikawa began scooping up some of the paella and dumping it onto Iwaizumi's plate. “It’s so different, how they cook rice here,” he mused. “And even the rice grain itself is different. I like our rice, in Japan.”  
  
Iwaizumi hummed. He began helping himself to the meat as Oikawa poured two glasses of wine.  
  
“Wait, why didn’t you have time to cook today?” Iwaizumi asked. “You don’t have practice.”  
  
“Yeah, but Kuroo came over last night,” Oikawa explained, “and we woke up late this morning.”   
  
Iwaizumi could hear Oikawa talking about how the rest of his day went, about how he had to drop by his agent’s office for something and do another thing before picking Iwaizumi up at the airport, but Iwaizumi didn’t really understand anything else after _“Kuroo came over last night and we woke up late this morning”_.  
  
_We._ Oikawa had said “we”. Meaning Kuroo had spent the night.   
  
Meaning Oikawa had been in one of his “I need attention” moods last night and Kuroo was a convenient fuck.  
  
“Kuroo, huh?” Iwaizumi said after swallowing a bite. “You didn’t tell me about that.”  
  
“Well I couldn’t, since you were already up in the air,” Oikawa said casually.  
  
“Kuroo is what, the third one this week?” Iwaizumi couldn’t stop.   
  
“Hmm?” Oikawa asked as he chewed.  
  
“Your… flings… or whatever,” Iwaizumi said, brows furrowing. “Kuroo is the third this week.”  
  
“Yeah, I think so?” Oikawa took another bite and swallowed it before saying playfully, “I didn’t know you kept score, Iwa-chan.”  
  
Iwaizumi set down his fork and folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I do.”  
  
Oikawa chuckled softly as he shoved more food into his mouth.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?” Iwaizumi asked after a long pause.  
  
“Sorry?” Oikawa looked at him as he sipped his wine, confused.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I keep count of how many people my boyfriend is fucking aside from me?” Iwaizumi asked, his voice rising. He tried to keep his temper down, his jealousy in check, but it was bubbling to the surface like magma.  
  
Iwaizumi knew everything. Oikawa told him, never kept his flings secret. On the one hand, Iwaizumi guessed he appreciated the honesty. But on the other hand, it just fucking hurt.  
  
Oikawa said that he needed attention, and that he couldn’t make Iwaizumi fly out to Buenos Aires every time he did, and so he settled for the temporary fix — some random guy at the bar, some girl who approached him for a selfie, a friend who was down to fuck without attachments, anyone who was willing to worship him for the night.   
  
It wasn’t just in Buenos Aires, either. Oikawa had been the same way since the beginning. Of course, not when they were in high school, when they were neighbors and their families knew each other. Back then, Iwaizumi was at Oikawa’s every beck and call. Oikawa would ask him to come over after practice, drop by before morning practice, run to his bedroom at random times of the day. No, it was in college when Oikawa’s… habit… first reared its ugly head. That was when he and Oikawa first experienced distance. Oikawa went to Sendai while Iwaizumi went to Tokyo, and they saw each other during semestral breaks. In between those breaks, they’d constantly talk on the phone, text, Facetime, but somehow still Oikawa went and looked for… _others_.  
  
Oikawa said his body just needed release, but his heart was always Iwaizumi’s, and therefore it wasn’t cheating.  
  
Iwaizumi was never the guy who talked about feelings. That was more Oikawa’s style. Between the two of them, Iwaizumi was serious and stoic and always kept his guard up, while Oikawa was light and playful and wore his heart on his sleeve. And Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa could never lie about his feelings, especially not about him, and most especially not _to_ him.  
  
So when Oikawa said that his heart belonged to him, Iwaizumi believed it.   
  
But Iwaizumi never said “okay”.  
  
Then again, he never said “stop that”, either.  
  
He couldn’t tell Oikawa how much jealousy raged within him every time he learned about a new encounter. It had been hurting like hell all these years. And he couldn’t understand why Oikawa couldn’t just stop.  
  
Wasn’t Iwaizumi enough?  
  
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa started slowly, “are you jealous of Kuroo?”  
  
Iwaizumi recognized Oikawa’s tone. It was the sure-fire sign that Oikawa was losing composure. He knew that he had to reel his emotions in, or else they would be in for one hell of a night.  
  
But Iwaizumi was losing control too.  
  
“Fuck no!”  
  
“Okay, then what _the fuck_ is your problem?” Oikawa was shouting now.  
  
Iwaizumi matched his tone to Oikawa’s. “You’re a fucking idiot if you can’t figure that out!”  
  
“What did you just call me?” Oikawa demanded, fury blazing in his eyes now. Iwaizumi could see it. His brain told him to shut up and just start soothing Oikawa, but he couldn’t.  
  
“You’re a fucking idiot!” he repeated. He pushed his chair backward so roughly that it almost toppled over and stomped away from the dining table, leaving Oikawa with the food and wine.  
  
“Don’t you dare walk out on me, Hajime!” Oikawa yelled. The use of his given name was a red flag, but Iwaizumi didn't care. He kept walking towards the bedroom, where his luggage was. He should’ve just booked a fucking hotel.   
  
He heard footsteps behind him as he was taking his dirty clothes out of Oikawa’s hamper. He wasn’t staying with Oikawa, that was for sure, and he wasn’t leaving any trace of himself behind.  
  
“Hajime!” Oikawa screamed practically right into Iwaizumi’s ear. Oikawa grabbed his arm and forced Iwaizumi to face him. His jaw was clenched and he was angrier than any other time Iwaizumi had seen him angry.  
  
“What?” Iwaizumi demanded, his tone still sharp. He wrenched his arm out of Oikawa’s grip and looked right into Oikawa’s brown eyes. He knew that Oikawa could also see the fury in his.  
  
He prayed that Oikawa could see the pain, too.  
  
But Oikawa didn’t.  
  
“What the fuck are you throwing a bitch fit for?” Oikawa demanded. “So Kuroo and I fucked last night! So I went out with two other guys this week? So fucking what?”  
  
Iwaizumi succeeded in restraining himself from punching Oikawa straight in the nose. “Are you kidding me right now?” he shouted. “ _‘So fucking what?’_ Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
“Explain it to me properly, then!” Oikawa demanded. “Don’t walk out on me like a fucking child!”  
  
Iwaizumi laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, _I’m_ the child? _I’m the child?_ ” His words dripped venom. “I’m not the one looking for an easy fuck every time I need _attention_ , Tooru! So tell me, between the two of us, who’s the child?”  
  
“Fuck you!” Oikawa shoved Iwaizumi, but the force wasn’t strong enough to tip his balance.  
  
Iwaizumi turned away from Oikawa and started for his jacket, which hung on a hook behind the bedroom door. Before he even reached it, Oikawa had already grabbed his shirt and was pulling him backward.  
  
“Stop walking away from me!” Oikawa screamed.   
  
Iwaizumi turned to face him again, prepared to shove him away. He looked at Oikawa’s face and saw tears in his eyes.  
  
Iwaizumi Hajime was a weak man, especially when it came to Oikawa Tooru. Though Iwaizumi knew the tears were angry ones, he still couldn’t stomach seeing Oikawa cry.  
  
But he also couldn’t be with Oikawa right now. He still wasn’t calm.  
  
“I need to get out of here,” Iwaizumi said angrily, but he was no longer shouting. He grabbed his jacket and put it on before starting for his suitcase, which was parked right by the bedroom door.  
  
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”   
  
“Out.”  
  
_“Where?”_  
  
“Not here.”  
  
“Hajime!”  
  
Iwaizumi spun on his heel and faced Oikawa squarely. The taller man was still seething, shaking with anger.  
  
Iwaizumi contemplated his next move.  
  
“I’ll call you,” he said simply as he pulled his suitcase out of the bedroom and made his way out of Oikawa’s apartment.  
  
Oikawa followed him out of the bedroom, screaming his lungs out.  
  
“Hajime! Come back here!”  
  
Iwaizumi opened the door of Oikawa’s apartment and stepped into the warm air.  
  
_“Haj_ — _!”_  
  
And he slammed the door shut without a backward glance.

*****

 _“Oikawa, I’m rushing to get to work, what is it?”_  
  
“I’m sorry, Suga-chan,” Oikawa said thickly. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot and his place was a mess. He had thrown and broken practically everything in his apartment in his rage following Iwaizumi’s abrupt departure. When he had finally calmed down, he called Iwaizumi, but the man never picked up his phone. He was worried sick.  
  
Sugawara seemed to have registered the sorry state Oikawa was in, because his tone softened and his face came closer to the screen. _“Tooru,”_ he said softly, and Oikawa could practically feel Sugawara’s long fingers pressing into his shoulder, squeezing it.  
  
“I’m sorry, Suga-chan, you know I wouldn’t be calling if I had anyone else.”  
  
_“Hush. What happened?”_  
  
“Iwa-chan arrived earlier tonight,” Oikawa started. On the screen of his laptop, he saw Sugawara nod. Sugawara must have sat down on his bed, based on the movements Oikawa saw.   
  
“We were having a nice dinner, and then…” Oikawa sucked in a breath, determined not to sob like a baby in front of his friend.  
  
_“Let it out,”_ Sugawara said softly.  
  
_“Koushi, we’re gonna be late!”_ Oikawa heard a voice from somewhere on Sugawara’s end of the call. Sugawara looked away from the screen and waved his hand, shooing the person away.  
  
“I’m sorry, Suga-chan, I can’t make you and Sawa-chan late,” Oikawa said, composing himself. “I’ll call another time.”  
  
_“No! Oikawa, don’t you dare hang up!”_ Sugawara said sharply. _“Wait, hang on.”_ Sugawara’s voice sounded a bit farther away when he said, _“I’ll just catch the train, you go ahead.”_  
  
Daichi’s face suddenly appeared on the screen, waving at Oikawa. _“Hi,”_ he said simply, a soft smile on his face.  
  
“Hey, Sawa-chan,” Oikawa replied, trying to pull his lips into a smile but ending up wincing. “I won’t keep him long, I promise.”  
  
_“Don’t worry about it,”_ Daichi assured him, and Oikawa felt better at Daichi’s words. He watched as Daichi placed a finger on Sugawara’s chin to turn his head and plant a soft kiss on his lips before saying, _“Bye, babe,”_ and disappearing from view.  
  
A sharp pain pierced Oikawa’s chest. He wanted what Sugawara had with Daichi. He wanted it with Iwaizumi.  
  
_“Okay,”_ Sugawara said finally. _“So you and Iwa were having a nice dinner…”_  
  
“And then it exploded into a fight, and he left.”  
  
_“And he isn’t picking up.”_ It wasn’t a question. Oikawa had called Sugawara too many times with this kind of scenario that his friend didn’t need to ask.  
  
_“What was the fight about?”_  
  
“My… uh… you know...” Somehow Oikawa couldn’t say it out loud. He squirmed in his seat, looking sheepishly at his nails.  
  
_“Yeah, okay, I got it,”_ Sugawara said dismissively.  
  
“Kuroo was here last night,” Oikawa explained.  
  
_“Ugh, again? That cheating whore,”_ Sugawara made a face.  
  
“How come you don’t call me a cheating whore?”  
  
_“I do. I actually say you’re an even bigger cheating whore than Kuroo.”_  
  
“How come you’re still talking to me?”  
  
_“Because even though you’re a bigger cheating whore than Kuroo, you’ve never tried to steal Daichi away from me.”_  
  
“Okay, that’s true. Though Sawa-chan _is_ my type.”  
  
_“Stop avoiding the topic, Oikawa.”_  
  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
  
_“Tell me exactly what you both said.”_  
  
Oikawa heaved a sigh. “He said, ‘Kuroo is the third this week,’ and I said, ‘Oh I didn’t know you were keeping count,’ and he said, ‘Why wouldn’t I keep count of how many people my boyfriend is fucking.’”  
  
_“And then?”_  
  
“I asked if he was jealous of Kuroo, and he said ‘Fuck no’ and he was angry, so I got angry and I asked him what his problem was. And then he called me a fucking idiot for not figuring it out.”  
  
Sugawara was silent, but his face urged Oikawa to go on.   
  
“And then he just started grabbing his things. And he said he needed to get out of here and that he’d call me.” Oikawa inhaled deeply and then exhaled with a sob. “And then he left, Suga-chan!”  
  
Sugawara was silent for a few more moments, but his presence, though virtual, was enough comfort for Oikawa. He cried his heart out, his entire body quivering with each sob.  
  
His laptop pinged all of a sudden and he got a message from Kuroo.  
  
_“Is it Iwa?”_ asked Sugawara.  
  
“No, it’s Kuroo,” Oikawa replied, clicking on the notification. He didn’t miss the face Sugawara made at the mention of Kuroo’s name, though.  
  
A photo appeared on Oikawa’s screen. It was Iwaizumi, nursing a whiskey at a counter, alone. He was sitting on a barstool, his head hung low, his elbows on the counter and his hands clasped together in front of his face.   
  
_From: Kuroo  
I found him like this. I’d return him to you but I don’t think it’d be a good idea. __  
I think we’re staying at the same hotel so I can keep tabs on him._  
  
_To: Kuroo  
Thanks Kuroo. Please do. _  
  
_“Oikawa?”_ came Sugawara’s voice from Oikawa’s laptop speakers.  
  
“Oh, sorry Suga-chan.” Oikawa returned to the Facetime window. “Kuroo found Iwa-chan,” he reported.  
  
Sugawara rolled his eyes at the mention of Kuroo.  
  
“I’m sorry, Suga-chan, I know you’ll—”  
  
_“Don’t mind me,”_ Sugawara cut him off. _“We were talking about you. So have you figured it out yet? Or are you still a fucking idiot?”_  
  
Oikawa gave Sugawara a small smile. “I think I have,” he said.  
  
_“So what are you gonna do about it?”_  
  
“I don’t know if I can do anything, Suga-chan,” Oikawa said, biting his upper lip and sticking out his lower lip in apprehension. “I’ve always been this way. What if I tell Iwa-chan that I’ll do it, and then I can’t? It’ll break his heart.”  
  
Sugawara’s face, even through a screen, spoke volumes to Oikawa.  
  
“I know, I know, it’s not like I’m not breaking his heart now,” Oikawa surrendered.  
  
_“Listen, Tooru,”_ Sugawara said. _“Do you love Iwa?”_  
  
“You know I do. He’s my everything.”  
  
_“Then you can find it in yourself to do something to fix this,”_ said Sugawara firmly. _“Because it’s gonna be either one of two things: you do something now, or you lose everything forever.”_  
  
Oikawa nodded. He knew that already.  
  
_“I have a question,”_ Sugawara said after a moment of silence.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
_“Why do you still need the others, when Iwa is your everything?”_  
  
Oikawa blinked.  
  
_“Isn’t everything enough?”_

*****

Iwaizumi’s first week in Buenos Aires was a complete bust. He and Oikawa hadn’t spoken since the fight. Sure, he replied to Oikawa’s messages, but that was it.  
  
Oikawa had blown up his phone that first night, the night they fought, calling him, sending him messages on every messaging platform imaginable. At first they were angry messages, cursing him, demanding him to come back and quit acting like a child. And then they were apologetic, sorry he had gotten angry, please come home already, he was getting worried. Then finally, Oikawa had given up, said that he hoped Iwaizumi was okay and that he’d get a good night’s rest.  
  
The day after the fight, Iwaizumi woke up to a message from Sawamura. Apparently, Oikawa had called Sugawara out of nowhere, and his eyes were bloodshot. Sawamura didn’t pry, bless him, but he messaged just to check in and see how Iwaizumi was holding up. Though several hours late, Iwaizumi replied and said that he was fine, he just needed some time. Sawamura told him to take all the time he needed. So here he was.  
  
Since there was no one to drag him out of bed every morning, Iwaizumi’s fight against jetlag was proving to be futile. He had been in Buenos Aires for almost a week and a half now yet his body was still on Tokyo time. He fell asleep finally as the sun rose, and now, he’s getting up just when the sun is setting.  
  
He rolled onto his back, spreading his arms and legs outward and staring into the empty ceiling. He honestly just wanted to go home. But he was scared that if he flew out, it would be the end for him and Oikawa. And he wasn’t sure that he was ready for that. Despite everything, he loved Oikawa deeply.  
  
Oikawa was Iwaizumi’s world.  
  
Since they were kids, even before Iwaizumi understood that he was madly in love with his best friend, he knew that Oikawa was everything to him. That much he acknowledged at an early age.  
  
He just wasn’t sure if he meant the same to Oikawa.  
  
Because if he did, then surely Oikawa wouldn’t need others. He wouldn’t have needed them in the past, and he wouldn’t need them in the future.  
  
_Am I enough for you, Tooru?_  
  
_Was I ever enough?_  
  
He snapped out of it as soon as he heard his phone ringing. He shoved his hand under one of the pillows to grab it and answered the call without looking at the screen.  
  
“Hello?” He realized he sounded very groggy.  
  
_“Iwa-chan? Did you just wake up?”_  
  
“Tooru,” he breathed. He had been deliberately avoiding answering Oikawa’s calls, limiting their interaction to texts. His jetlag helped with that too, since he was asleep in the daytime. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure he was ready to hear Oikawa’s voice. Now that it was there, though, Iwaizumi felt the warmth spread from the middle of his chest to the rest of his body.  
  
_“Iwa-chan?”_  
  
“Ah, yeah, I just woke up,” he admitted, sounding less sleepy by the second. “Sorry, I’m still jetlagged, I guess.”  
  
_“Have you eaten?”_  
  
“Uh, no, I haven’t.”  
  
_“I can come up and bring you something,”_ Oikawa offered.  
  
Was he ready to see him? Iwaizumi _wanted_ to, but was he _ready_? Would he not lash out again? Would they not end up exactly how they did at Oikawa's apartment?  
  
“Uh, that’s… wait, did you say ‘come up’?” Iwaizumi asked, Oikawa’s words registering belatedly in his sleep-lulled brain.  
  
_“Um, yeah. I’m, uh, I’m actually at the lobby of your hotel,”_ Oikawa sounded apprehensive. _“Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything, Iwa-chan, it’s just that_ — _”_  
  
“Kuroo told you, didn’t he?” Iwaizumi’s blood started to boil in his veins again. He recalled seeing Kuroo at the lobby cafe a couple of days ago and instantly suspected that Kuroo would report to Oikawa that he was staying there.  
  
_“Yes, he did,”_ Oikawa said, his voice small. Oikawa’s voice during this entire conversation sounded very… _un-Oikawa_. Iwaizumi was not used to this.  
  
_“Iwa-chan, please.”_ Oikawa sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and it broke Iwaizumi’s heart.  
  
“You can come up,” he said finally.  
  
There was silence on the other line.  
  
“Tooru?”  
  
_“Yeah, I’m here,”_ Oikawa replied. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and Iwaizumi could hear it through the phone, could just see the bright smile on his face. _“I’m on my way up.”_

*****

Oikawa watched as Iwaizumi wolfed down the agedashi tofu. He got it from the most authentic Japanese restaurant in the city, the one he knew Iwaizumi liked.  
  
“Why aren’t you eating?” asked Iwaizumi.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” Oikawa said and started on his gyudon. He wasn’t really in the mood to eat, but he got himself something anyway in the hopes that he could have a nice, quiet dinner with the man he loved.  
  
They ate in silence, Oikawa watching Iwaizumi. He watched as Iwaizumi opened his mouth to stuff food into it, and Oikawa longed to touch him, pepper that jaw with kisses, cover that mouth with his own. He recalled how that mouth felt on his neck, down his torso, on his inner thighs, on his cock, on his entrance. His mind replayed the words that came out of that mouth, soothing his heart and soul.  
  
Iwaizumi was his everything.  
  
So why did he need others? Especially when their mouths couldn’t even compare to Iwaizumi’s.  
  
Sugawara’s voice rang in his head. _Isn’t everything enough?_  
  
It was. It was more than enough.  
  
_Do something now, or lose everything forever._  
  
“Is there something wrong with your food?” Iwaizumi’s voice shook Oikawa from his reverie. He looked up to see that Iwaizumi was done with his meal.  
  
“Oh! No, no, it’s actually good,” Oikawa shook his head. “I guess I’m just not hungry after all.” He replaced the lid of his take-out container. “Do you want to keep this?”   
  
“Sure,” Iwaizumi shrugged.  
  
Oikawa wanted Iwaizumi to come home with him, but he didn’t want to push. They were teetering under so much tension that one wrong move could break them. Instead, Oikawa was pretending that this was normal. That Iwaizumi staying at a hotel instead of with him was normal.  
  
“Let’s keep it in your fridge,” Oikawa said as he started to get up from the table, taking the container with him. He placed it inside the mini-fridge of Iwaizumi’s hotel room. “You can just heat it when you get hungry.”  
  
“Okay,” Iwaizumi said. “Thank you.”  
  
“No need to thank me, it’s just leftovers, really,” Oikawa pasted a smile on his face as he walked towards where Iwaizumi was seated, but it wasn’t his usual smile. He knew that Iwaizumi could see it, but it was worth a try.  
  
He took his seat across from Iwaizumi.  
  
“Iwa-chan, I—”  
  
“No, wait,” Iwaizumi cut him off. “Can I say something first?”  
  
Oikawa blinked. Iwaizumi’s tone was firm, but didn’t sound angry. He didn’t _look_ angry either. And this is how Oikawa knew that what Iwaizumi was about to say was serious. He swallowed and nodded.  
  
He watched as Iwaizumi closed his eyes and inhaled. Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was bracing himself, getting ready to talk about something extremely difficult for him. And the one thing Iwaizumi couldn’t express without having to brace himself was his feelings.  
  
Oikawa braced himself too.  
  
“I’m sorry about the other night,” Iwaizumi began softly, his voice steady but barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I lashed out. But…” he took another deep breath.  
  
“Tooru, I can’t do this anymore.”  
  
Oikawa gripped the edge of the table.  
  
“I tried to be okay with it, I really did.” Iwaizumi’s voice was getting louder, rising to the normal levels, but not harsh, not shouting. “You said it was all just physical, that your heart belonged to me, and I believed you. I still do. Except that I can’t share the physical part too.”  
  
Iwaizumi paused. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were squeezed shut, like he was drawing strength from deep inside himself, willing it all to come out of his mouth.  
  
“All these years, it hurt like hell, hearing you talk about them. Knowing that some other man or woman has their mouth all over you. Knowing that you’re inside someone else, or that someone else is inside you. I can’t…” Iwaizumi trailed off, hanging his head. Oikawa could see it was physically paining him, but he wasn’t sure if it was the memories, or all the images in his brain, or the fact that he was talking about his feelings. Oikawa wanted to take away his pain, absorb it all in his body and suffer through it as his as penance.  
  
“I realized that I was waiting for you to change.” Iwaizumi’s head was still bowed, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him and Oikawa. "I never said anything, never told you to stop, but I was expecting you to. And I realized that that was unfair, because you didn't know, because I never told you. So here I am. I’m saying it now.”  
  
Iwaizumi finally lifted his head and looked right into Oikawa’s eyes. Oikawa hadn’t seen those eyes since the fight, and even then, they were different. They were filled with fury and rage the last time. Tonight, they were filled with pain, and yet, also full of love. Oikawa could drown in the love in Iwaizumi’s eyes.  
  
He returned Iwaizumi’s gaze, hoping that the man could see how much he loved him too.  
  
“I love you, Tooru. I love you too fucking much to share you with anyone, even if it’s just the physical part. I can’t do it. I just can’t.”  
  
Iwaizumi paused to take another deep breath.  
  
“I’m yours. Completely. And I want you to be mine completely, too. So _please,_ stop sleeping around.”  
  
Oikawa heard it. Iwaizumi was begging. And that hurt. He didn’t have to beg.  
  
He was Oikawa’s everything. And he was enough.  
  
Iwaizumi heaved a sigh, and Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was giving him permission to finally speak. He reached out and took one of Iwaizumi’s hands in both of his, bowing his head.  
  
“I’m a fucking idiot, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa started, his eyes already welling up with tears. “I’m sorry I got angry the other night. But I’m even more sorry that it took me so long, this long, to finally get it through my thick skull.”  
  
Oikawa lifted his head to look at those beautiful green eyes.  
  
“You’re my everything, Iwa-chan. And everything is enough. More than enough. I don’t need anyone else. I can let go of everything else, but not you. Because everything else is nothing without you.”  
  
Tears were streaming down Oikawa’s cheeks now, but he stood his ground. He let go of Iwaizumi’s hand and fished something out of his jeans pocket. He held a plain gold band between his thumb and index finger and held it out to Iwaizumi.  
  
“Marry me, Iwaizumi Hajime,” Oikawa breathed. He saw Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, but he pressed on. “You’re my everything, and everything else is never enough without you.”  
  
He heard Iwaizumi swallow down a sob.  
  
“I know we can’t do it Japan, but we can do it here,” Oikawa continued said. “We can elope here. And then we can stay here. You can be a trainer here. Or I can move back to Tokyo with you. I can leave the League. It doesn’t matter to me. _You’re_ what matters to me.”  
  
Iwaizumi stared at him for what felt like ages. Oikawa was still holding out the ring.  
  
Finally, Iwaizumi spoke.  
  
“Are you fucking serious right now?”  
  
“What?” Oikawa asked, confused.  
  
“ _This_ is how you’re fucking proposing to me?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa recognized the tone, the normal playful banter in Iwaizumi’s voice.  
  
“What’s wrong with it?” Oikawa played along.  
  
“This isn’t romantic at all, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, eyeing the ring.  
  
“What?” Oikawa giggled. “I told you _‘you’re my everything’_ like a hundred times! I’m holding out a fucking solid gold ring here!” He really was still holding out the ring.  
  
“How do I know that’s solid gold?”  
  
“You little shit, you know I wouldn’t get you anything less than a solid 18k.”  
  
Iwaizumi laughed, and that sound warmed Oikawa all over.  
  
“So are you gonna marry me or not?” Oikawa demanded. He wiggled his hand to show that he was still holding the ring. “I’m getting tired.”  
  
Iwaizumi got to his feet and pulled Oikawa close to him, wrapping one arm around Oikawa’s waist, the other grabbing hold of Oikawa’s wrist, the one holding up the ring. There was now barely an inch of space between them.  
  
“Marry me, Hajime,” Oikawa breathed, his voice barely a whisper.   
  
Oikawa heard a “yes” escape Iwaizumi’s mouth before he felt it on his. Iwaizumi immediately slid his tongue into Oikawa’s mouth and Oikawa let him, melting into the kiss, relishing in the taste of Iwaizumi and in the feel of his fingers on his body. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and everything Oikawa needed.  
  
When they finally pulled apart, Oikawa slid the ring onto Iwaizumi’s ring finger and beamed. “It’s perfect.” He wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist.  
  
Iwaizumi laughed. “Did you really think I would say no, Shittykawa?”  
  
Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Now look who isn’t romantic,” he scoffed.  
  
“You don’t deserve a romantic night,” Iwaizumi said.  
  
“Oh, and you do?”  
  
“Damn right I do, after all the shit you’ve put me through all these years.”  
  
“Oh, fuck you!” Oikawa laughed and playfully shoved Iwaizumi away, but the man held on to his waist.  
  
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi whispered. “Fuck me.”  
  
Oikawa swallowed, a shiver running down his spine. He was absolutely weak for that voice.  
  
“Fuck me and no one else. Forever.”  
  
Oikawa nodded and slanted his mouth over Iwaizumi’s into a kiss.  
  
_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of got away from me. I knew I wanted to write an IwaOi fic, and I wanted this kind of ending (they are absolutely endgame!), but it was a struggle to get there. I apologize for the length but I hope you still liked it!
> 
> I was going back and forth on even including Daichi and Suga in here, more so the whole Daichi-Suga-Kuroo thing. But I couldn't picture Oikawa talking to anyone about his Iwa-chan woes other than his volleyball friends, who are all mostly in Japan. I picked Suga just because I missed them (DaiSuga is my ride or die) and then somehow the whole Daichi-Suga-Kuroo thing was born. I might use it in another fic though, so maybe watch out for that?
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments if you liked this! It gets me going. After such a long time of not writing, this feels awesome. Thank you all. <3


End file.
